Death of the Phoenix
by Nicor Warg-Fyrweorm
Summary: The last day of the Cybertronian War. And of the last planet it raged on. And of those that took part in it. The last day of life. And the first day of death.
1. Light Up the Day

The Autobots don't really understand birthday parties, but that doesn't mean they didn't help with it. At least, that's what Chip says after they enter the Rec Room to find it colorfully adorned and with almost all of the Cybertronian there throwing confetti at the cry of 'Happy birthday, Spike!'.

It's a great party, complete with food and drinks Sparkplug and Carly brought, and even presents from the Autobots, most of them petty or decorative things, since, apparently, anything that wasn't a necessity was a luxury back in Cybertron, before the war, and thus would make the perfect present in the bizarre and alien custom of birthday gifts.

Spike loves them all, even the weird sculpture from Gears that is supposed to be some kind of wild animal from a planet the name of which can't be pronounced by humans, but that is so masterfully put together and made of fantasy-like glassy metals that the teenager feels his breath taken away at the sight of such beauty.

It's even more amazing when he's told it's made of tin and clay.

"I guess you can find beauty even in a mud-ball like this." The Minibot simply says with a dismissing shrug, but it means the world to the boy.

Even those that hated it in the beginning have learnt to love Earth, his home planet. It's heartwarming, that a species that has seen so much, that can live so long, appreciates this 'mud-ball' humanity was born in.

However, even the most perfect occasion can have a flaw, and this time, it is the alarm indicating a Decepticon attack.

But nothing can make the day go wrong.

So, along with his father, his best friend and his girlfriend, Spike boards Skyfire and accompanies the Autobots to the battle.

He knows his limits, though. Meaning, while the Cybertronian fight each other, the humans rush into the attacked lab, fortunately empty, to get to whatever the Decepticons want before they do.

Ravage and Rumble are already there.

No matter. They won't let the Decepticons win.

They say as much, and, as usual, the Cassettes don't take well to being mocked by them, especially because, even though the natives are 'weak' and 'fragile' squishies, they've managed to drive them away before.

And they all know it.

Despite the snarling and exchanging of insults, neither side gets a chance to do anything, because Skyfire rips the ceiling away and, faster than they thought him able to, he grabs all those inside and transforms, dumping humans and Cassettes alike into his cargo bay, pained yelping echoing against the walls—

The Shuttle trashes, violently, like a plane through a storm, even though he hasn't taken off, and his unwilling passengers are rattled around like the ball of a pinball machine.

With a last roaring shake—or is it Skyfire's scream of pain?—all systems turn off, throwing them into darkness.

And the shrieking begins.

Pained, agonized actually, and pleading and terrified and so much like the lost toddler Spike found in the mall once that it shouldn't be the Cassettes'.

But it is.

The fearsome Decepticon Elite spies are screaming and flailing around, searching without really looking, as if their whole world had…

Thanks to the wild flashes of the panicked and horror-struck Cybertronians' visor and optics, the Witwicky find the door to Skyfire's cockpit, and get it open with some bars from Chip's broken chair.

And Spike finally acknowledges the grief in the Cassettes' cries, because the world _has_ ended.

Where there was a large facility, now there's a pile of molten rock and metal.

Where there was greenery as far as the eye could see, now there's ash.

Where there were snow-capped mountains in the distance, now there are active volcanoes and crumbling rocks.

Where there was blue sky, now there's fiery red with yellowed soot clouds quickly growing.

Where there were metal giants fighting in yet another battle of a seemingly never-ending war, now there are fallen frames and burning lumps of molten slag.

"What's going on? What happened?" Chip calls from where he's sitting, a scared Carly next to him, snapping father and son from their horror-induced paralysis.

They can't see the outside from the cargo bay, only the red light bathing everything like the unblinking alarms of the _Ark_, slithering over white metal and clothes and flesh as if it was alive, distorted by the smoke the other two humans don't know is there.

"Oh God… I-I'm not sure, but… Oh God…" Sparkplug stutters as Spike takes a step back, shaking his head slowly in disbelief. "Looks like—like an atomic bomb went off… or more like _a dozen_…"

The lights start to flicker, the Cassettes' cries slowly growing silent as they get to their knees, Rumble covering his faceplate with his servos as he curls against a shocked Ravage's bent back.

"Skyfire?" Carly asks, and white noise comes from all around them as the lighting stabilizes. "Skyfire, are you all right?"

For a moment, there's nothing.

"I… mostly… Are _kzz_-u alright?" The Shuttle finally answers, voice mechanical and almost unrecognizable from the static overlapping with it.

Something moves on the other side of the cockpit glass.

A large gray shape slowly sits up, paint scratched, peeled off and burnt in most places, the only remnants of the right arm being a shredded stub attached to the shoulder joint.

"A bit banged up, but yes. What happened? You shoved us here with the Cons!" Chip exclaims, gesturing to the Cassettes despite none of them knowing if the large mech can really see it.

It may have been a protest before, but after what they just experienced, after what Spike can still _see_, and the fact the two small mechs are quiet and non-threatening, it's questioning and confused instead.

The gray shape turns to another at its side, one with a well-known boxy chest ripped to nothingness from what looks like an explosion from within.

And then, after solemnly resting the remaining servo on a matte gray arm, and whispering something the boy doesn't manage to catch, Megatron wobbly stands up.

Optimus stays immobile on the ground, gray and broken and _dead_.

"I don't think that matters anymore." Spike lets out, voice raspy and almost broken, as if he'd been crying, even though he hasn't shed a single tear. "Autobot or Decepticon. I don't think that matters anymore."

"What? What happened?!" Carly calls, distressed, but unwilling to move from Chip's side, even if that would mean knowing _what is going on_.

"Frenzy… Laserbeak, Buzzsaw…" Rumble sobs, voice cracking with static, attracting their attention. "They're gone… _Gone_… Carrier… I can't-can't feel him… _Carrier_…"

"It was a solar flare." Skyfire speaks, suddenly but so softly that he almost goes unheard, his voice no longer distorted. "I felt it just before it hit, when it reached the atmosphere. I… I'm sorry."

But he saved them. He shouldn't be apologizing. Or was that said to the Cons?

_"I'm sorry for your loss."_

Old words he didn't truly hear but that have never been forgotten, spoken by so many voices that time has made them blend into one, black figures moving slowly through his home and tears on the face of a man he had always thought of as unbreakable.

And the absence of warm arms shielding him from the scary thunderstorm, the silence filling in the void of a sweet voice he barely remembers singing a lullaby he'll never forget, vanquishing the monsters in the darkness that lightning brought to life.

Spike's throat dries up.

"Earth?" Chip whispers, but he's too clever for his own good, him and Carly, because the boy is going pale and there are tears in the girl's eyes, but the younger Witwicky can just plea in his mind not to hear what they're obviously thinking.

It can't be real. It _can't_.

"The flare was too strong, it… must have destroyed everything down to a couple miles or more into the ground. And if I'm wrong… The atmosphere is almost completely gone, filling with toxic gases, and the leftover radiation is lethal to organics, even at minimum exposure. I'm sorry."

Slowly, more shapes on that nightmarish outside world start to move, sit up and even stand up, uncaring whether they're next to enemies or friends, and cries and screams grow loud enough to be heard through the reinforced glass and metal of the Shuttle's hull.

Ratchet, an arm gone and shoulder blackened, being checked by Hook as Scrapper staggers to the medics, carrying an arm still attached to a shoulder with a long narrow doorwing-like pane.

Scavenger helping Jazz from under a half-melted gray frame Spike refuses to recognize, paint blackened, visor cracked and dark, and a badly burnt leg unmoving.

Megatron picking an immobile Soundwave up as best as he can with just one arm, the glass of the chest compartment stained pink from the inside.

Thundercracker sitting on the ground with difficulty, an arm, leg and wing missing along almost the whole side they were attached to, though with no Energon staining them, a crater at his back like that left by a spoon in an ice cream tube.

Astrotrain, standing in shock next to a rocking Wildrider, a curled up Breakdown, a shivering Skydive, a horrified Fireflight, and a numb-looking Silverbolt, all of them staring at piles of burning molten metal, colorful flames spewing from them.

Brawn carefully sitting up with Cliffjumper's help, red plating cracked in spider web-like patterns that the strongest Minibot refuses to look up, too horrified to do more than stare at his own servos.

Hound, lying gray and immobile next to an equally colored and unresponsive Mirage, smoke climbing out of the seams on their torsos and their open mouths in faceplates twisted in agony.

Ramjet kneeling next to a still Starscream, almost frantically shaking the other Seeker and pleading for him to react, to no avail.

And of the rest of Cybertronian, only molten metal and broken parts remain.

At most.

"_Ark_. The _Ark_!" Ratchet shouts, reaching for Megatron but being held in place by Hook. "The _Ark_ is in a volcano, we have to get the others out!"

"Shuttle, can you go there?" Megatron asks, turning to Skyfire.

"Yes. But I don't know if I can carry all of you at once."

"You won't have to. Bring them to the _Victory_. We will all wait there."

And the Shuttle takes off, though staying close to the ground.

"I need you all to move to the cabin. I can't safely transform or open my bay doors with you there."

Numb and pained, the humans nevertheless tense when the Cassettes approach Carly and Chip.

"I can help carry him." Rumble whispers, nodding to the boy.

After a moment, the disabled teenager nods, and the Cassette easily picks him up and takes him to the cabin, leaving him on a chair.

It doesn't take them long to get to the _Ark_, and, as Ratchet feared, the volcano is spewing lava over the sides.

What they didn't expect, though they should've, is to see a group of Autobots on the outside.

Prowl is at the front, with half his body with molten plating, the doorwing on that side missing, with Blaster at his feet with his chest covered in Energon. Trailbreaker, with burnt pedes and servos, is kneeling next to Inferno, whose whole frame is crisscrossed by burnt lines, an immobile Perceptor, plating cracked and burnt and missing his shoulder cannon, in the fire truck's arms, with Hoist looking him over, although wobbling unsteadily on his pedes, and Warpath, missing his tank nozzle, waving at Skyfire.

There's no sign of any of the other mechs left behind.

And there's lava slowly slithering out of the _Ark_'s entrance.

Barely half a minute after the Shuttle lands, and after some shifting of plating as the transport mech adjusts his size to Cybertronian standards, they take off again, leaving the remnants of what had once been Spike's second home behind.

Nothing more than molten rock and metal and burning memories.

Smoke in the wind of a dead world.

* * *

**AN:** Hey, look, another post-apocalyptic story, how new is _that_? ... Well, I hope it's new enough to get your attention XP

Nah, seriously here, this story begins like many of my other ones, if not all. With a dream. And that dream was influenced, I guess, by the movie _Knowing_, since I had seen it recently.

Now, not much has changed from my original dream, including the excuse of Spike's birthday so that as many human allies as possible were in the _Ark_, and that Skyfire managed to save them, and a couple of Cassettes, by means of shoving them inside a Shuttle's cargo bay (a vehicle prepared to resist the harshness of space and most of everything it can throw at those who dare traverse its depths, up to deadly radiation), but there _have_ been changes. Mostly on the list of casualties and injuries. Because, as always, I try to stick to reality as best as possible in such circumstances, and that means... realism killed more characters and gravely injured a lot more than I first thought it would (and it also spared some others, let's be sincere). So, if your favorite character/someone you liked is deactivated or grievously damaged, know I couldn't do a thing to stop it from happening. And if nothing has been said about them, you'll get answers next chapter, when the official casualty list will be revealed (though ask if you want, I always answer if I can). Well, I could've avoided it if I hadn't written this, but where's the fun in that?

By the by, a question: Is it alright for this to stay with a T rating, or should it be M? 'Cause this is supposed to be robot gore (kinda), but I'm not really sure how that is supposed to be rated...


	2. Headcount

The _Victory_'s docking tower doesn't rise, so Skyfire has to get to the emergency entry that opens in the hull of the sunken ship.

One of the Reflector components is waiting for them once they get out of the Shuttle to allow him to transform.

For the first time since… _since_, the humans see Skyfire's state.

All things said, he's been spared a lot of damage, only burn marks streaking his plating.

None of the Autobots inside react to seeing the Cassettes, Rumble carrying Chip since his strength makes it easy for him to do so, though Warpath looks clearly uncomfortable.

"Come, you need to be checked." The Reflector component, who looks completely unharmed, then proceeds to guide them through the dark corridors of the spaceship, lighting the way thanks to some kind of lantern on his grasp.

He doesn't take the group to the Repair Bay, but to what looks like the Rec Room.

One quick look at the space illuminated by large floodlights is more than answer enough as to why.

Every single table is being used as some kind of bed or seat, the remaining three Constructicons rushing from one damaged mech to another.

Ratchet, sitting next to the door, almost jumps to his pedes when he sees them, but Skydive pulls him down with a whimpered plea, catching Hook's attention.

"At last! There, we had that area cleared for you. Who's the worst?"

"Perceptor. His lab was set ablaze when that surge hit. What happened?" Inferno immediately answers, putting the unconscious scientist on one of the stretchers that have been moved into the room.

"One instant we were fighting, the next Starscream was shouting at us to get down and for the Fliers to land, all panicky, and then that thing hit. Blew the injured ones up when the leaking Energon ignited, and I'm still trying to find out what else it did to some of us." The Decepticon medic explains with a growl, rushing to the two Autobots. "You're not fine yourself."

"I went to get him out of the lab, but I was there just a moment. He's worse than—"

"He has thicker plating, he's _better_. You, on the other servo, have all your sensory net fused to your plating, so sit down and let me see if I can save anything."

"Blaster! Come over here!" Ratchet shouts, even though the soft whispers and the clanging of the room aren't loud enough to muffle his words.

Slowly, and leaning on Prowl as much as the SIC is on him, the Cassette Carrier approaches the ambulance, still held in place by the worried Aerialbot.

"I—_We_ are fine, Ratch. Really. The _Ark_ took most of the brunt, and I got away from the lava before any serious damage could—"

"You're leaking from your _chest compartment_." The Medic cuts with a hiss, looking over the seams of the glass cover with soft touches of his remaining servo.

"My communications systems blew up, but, taking everything into account, it wasn't serious. The newspark is fine, Ratchet, I can feel him."

"Newspark?" A voice by Spike's side asks, startled and confused and slightly hopeful, but when the boy turns, there's only Ravage there. "You're carrying?" And… well, it _was_ Ravage talking, look at that.

"Yeah, got the confirmation about a couple joor ago." Blaster answers with a small smile, looking more sad than happy.

"Where's Prime?"

And the whole room goes silent, no one meeting Prowl's gaze as he helps the Autobot Communications Officer sit down next to Ratchet while analyzing the other mechs.

No one, except a certain large gray being missing an arm.

"Deactivated." Megatron finally answers, and even though his voice is quiet, it's still too loud in the almost complete silence permeating the room. "The Matrix exploded."

And if the room had been quiet before, now it's _soundless_.

"What?" The Autobot Second finally whispers, shaking and tilting to the side of the remaining doorwing before Hoist holds onto him, his dented and bent legs and back barely keeping them both upright.

"That energy wave reacted with the Matrix of Leadership and it blew up. Optimus is deactivated, the Matrix destroyed, and the line of Primes ended. Not that there's much of a line of anything, in our situation…" The warlord explains, even the grumbling at the end sounding defeated.

"It was a solar flare." Thundercracker adds, attracting all gazes, though he doesn't look away from the ceiling he's staring at, lying on a table with a nervous Ramjet moving to be at his side. "The increased heat of the last days wasn't a warmer summer than usual. We were distracted by the battle, we didn't notice until it was too late… and by then, all we could do was land and hope it didn't…" His voice breaks with static, and his optics go black as he visibly tries to recompose himself. "It interfered with Skywarp's warp matrix, made it malfunction, and he… He's gone. Erased, warped out of existence, or something. I was too close, half my frame was pulled into that… warp field, or whatever. The Autobot frontliner twins were inside the field too."

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.

Gone.

"Sit down." Scrapper orders, guiding the Autobots to the couple of stretchers next to Perceptor's, leaving the humans to stand next to the door with just Ravage and Rumble as company.

Until the feline mech steps forward.

"What about Soundwave? And Ratbat?"

"Soundwave's here." Scavenger calls near the end of the room, and, since the humanoid Cassette is still carrying Chip, all of them go to the Constructicon. "Ratbat's fine, he's just in stasis after Soundwave's communications systems blew up, so we got him out of the chest compartment and resting here." He explains, gesturing to a purplish bundle at the head of the Decepticon Third's table. "Now, Soundwave, on the other servo… You know how he gets his processor-reading capabilities from his super-sensitive electric field, right?" The Cassettes whimper, and Scavenger looks clearly uncomfortable. "Yeah… That flare didn't do him good. The only thing we've managed to ascertain so far is that the processor damage isn't worsening, but we can't try to repair it right now, we're… busy, and awfully undereducated in that field."

"I may be able to help." Ratchet calls, and even though he tries to stand up, Skydive still hanging from his only arm doesn't allow him to move. "Once I'm repaired, that is." He adds, more softly, and the Aerialbot calms down a bit.

"Scavenger, if you're done sealing leaks, come help with the Autobots. As soon as Reflector get the lights back up, we're starting with replacements, and we need to have everything else out of the way first." Scrapper calls from where he's carefully detaching Cliffjumper's cracked plating, the Minibot grimacing in pain but keeping still.

Without a word, the Constructicon gets to work on Trailbreaker's pedes, taking bent and burnt plating off to seal the broken lines, but the quiet doesn't make the soft chatter of before come back.

"What about the rest?" Sparkplug asks, attracting the attention of the closest mechs. "The rest of Autobots and Decepticons. These can't be all of them, right?" He adds, lifting his hands to gesture to the room, and, as before, all but Megatron look away.

"Astrotrain was fairly unscathed, so we sent him to check on the groups that were neither at the battle nor the ships. However, all our comm devices have been permanently disabled by the surge, and we're still trying to get the _Victory_ working, so there's no way to contact them."

"And who are those groups?" Carly asks softly, looking around to try and locate all known mechs.

"The Combaticons and Insecticons in their bases, the Dinobots and Protectobots, and those whose last locations is known, like those Minibots of yours."

"Beachcomber and Windcharger went to Yellowstone Park." Prowl lets out softly, his remaining doorwing lowering to almost rest on his molten back plating. "And Yellowstone is basically a giant volcano caldera. After seeing just how Earth's geological activity has increased after the flare…"

No more words are needed.

"But what about the others?" The young woman asks, a bit more forceful with worry, as unable as the rest of humans and small Cybertronian to see the whole of the room's inhabitants. "You're obviously still alive, even if missing an arm—"

"From my fusion cannon exploding, yes. I was fortunate my plating is thick enough and the security clamps of my Energon lines functioned, for I would've deactivated from my own Energon igniting and exploding while still in my frame otherwise." Megatron hisses, glaring darkly at his remaining servo, tightly clenched on his lap.

"Right. You're here, but Optimus died because… that matrix thing exploded."

"The Matrix of Leadership was a cultural and religious sacred item, said to bear Primus' own conscience, along that of the previous Primes. It was a powerful artifact that Primes stored in their chests, around their sparks. So when the Matrix blew up… it took Optimus with it." A new voice explains, bitter and saddened, and the humans finally find the Autobot Third, sitting next to Silverbolt, and with his visor still cracked and dark, though the damaged plating of his left thigh is gone, along a lot of the inside, leaving only the thick main strut, some rubber-like tubing that must be the Energon lines, and some chain linkages from hip to knee joint.

"Jazz? How are you?" Prowl asks, straightening as he finally locates the saboteur.

"Could've been worse. Someone crashed on me, got a thigh damaged and my visor busted, but at least I was the one that didn't go gray." The Head of Spec Ops answers with a small shrug, and the Aerialbolt next to him curls into himself with a soft whimper. "Bolt? You alright, buddy?"

"It was Air Raid. The one who… who crashed on you, it was Air Raid. When Starscream started shouting for the Fliers to land, I gave the order too, but… he and Slingshot didn't obey. They crashed, broke some Energon lines that caught fire and…" Another whimper, and, a bit awkwardly and after some fumbling, Jazz manages to pull the larger mech closer into a semblance of a hug.

"Shush, it wasn't your fault, Silverbolt. It was no one's fault, it just happened. You did what was best for your team, and Fireflight and Skydive are still active thanks to you. Calm down, Bolt, buddy."

"But they're gone… and your leg is useless and your visual sensors destroyed, because I couldn't save my brothers…"

"No, Bolt, no…" The saboteur whispers, clearly out of his depth, and Skydive and Fireflight quickly stand up from their seats to curl against their Gestalt leader, displacing the Head of Spec Ops.

Scavenger is there almost immediately, helping Jazz hop to the seat next to Ratchet that has been vacated.

The damaged leg is hanging uselessly, the pede not even twitching as it drags against the ground.

"What about Starscream?" Skyfire asks, clearly worried, as he scans the mechs in the room from where he's standing close to the wall to not be in the way.

"Over there, by Soundwave. We finally managed to get his spark stabilized, but I don't think it'll do him any good." Scrapper answers, observing Hoist's inner workings as he carefully takes the back plating off, Cliffjumper almost completely armor-less and sitting still and silent next to a still shocked Brawn. "If he manages to survive the orn, the chances of sudden spark-extinction will lessen notably, but he'll never fly again. Or even _run_."

"What?" The Shuttle whispers, dismayed, and, had he been capable of it, he would've paled.

"War isn't kind to anyone." Thundercracker answers from his bed, optics black. "Starscream's spark hasn't been fully attuned to his frame for millions of years, ever since the frame transfer, and it would've never been. But even though he could function normally, that left him more vulnerable to the flare than the rest of us. He's lucky his spark didn't extinguish right there and then. Or maybe not."

"We'll get you a replacement leg." Scavenger calls calmly, almost soothingly, and the blue Seeker onlines his optics to glare at him. "Not another wing, or turbine, but at least you'll have two legs and arms again. Primus knows we can do as much with as many deactivated frames."

Thundercracker is saying something, his voice a low growl, but Spike isn't listening anymore.

_"Primus knows we can do as much with as many deactivated frames."_

It can't… It can't _mean_…

"What are you going to do?" The teenager asks, loud enough that all conversation stops as they turn to him. "With the dead, what are you going to do? What are you going to do with-with Optimus, and Bumblebee, and…"

"With the Minibot, nothing. He was a pile of molten materials. But Prime's right arm will replace Megatron's, and we can use what we salvage from him to build more limbs and fix broken sensor nets, and—"

"_What_?!" All humans exclaim, horrified, and get annoyed looks from the Decepticons and sad ones from the Autobots.

"We have little replacements here, and your _Ark_ is gone, so we're going to recycle as much of the deactivated as we can, to help those still functioning." Hook grumbles, glaring at Inferno's inner workings as he keeps working. "Which won't be as much as any of us wants."

"You've got to understand we're not organics." Ratchet adds, voice low and soothing. "As mechanical beings, we can have some parts be replaced, and even exchanged. Think of it like all of us being donors. Only, instead of organs, we can donate whole appendages."

"So you're… going to pull Optimus apart to give an arm to Megatron and… who knows what else?" Spike whispers, voice trembling and eyes wide. "You're not… going to give him a proper goodbye, to bury him, or… or whatever?"

"Recycling in mechanical species doesn't work that way." Scrapper answers, serious, turning to face the humans. "Organics decompose and thus their basic components go back to the soil to be absorbed by others and continue the cycle. Mechanoids are dismantled and melted down to build new parts and frames, but in wartimes, or situations with such lack of resources, we can't afford to build replacement parts from deactivated frames. We must use the available parts, no matter if the degree of compatibility isn't as high as it could be."

"This _is_ the 'proper goodbye' for Cybertronians, little buddy." Jazz calls, helm tilted their way with a small but warm smile. "Melting them would've been better, but this is second best. Their sparks go back to Primus, and their frames go to help the rest of us. As it has always been and… will keep being, for as long as our race exists." The tiny speech is soured towards the end, the saboteur's smile vanishing as he turns away.

But, despite how… repulsing the idea of dismantling the dead is, thinking of it as donors and transplants and this being the traditional funerary rites—like the alien version of a viking funeral, or something of the like—makes it more bearable.

As long as they don't think too much or deeply about it.

"What now?" Chip asks, and the room darkens almost visibly.

Because this isn't a simple question.

It can't be simple ever again, for as long as _ever_ gets to be.

"We wait for Reflector to get the power back, and keep repairs going." Scrapper answers softly, starting to get Prowl's damaged plating off. "And then, we get back to Cybertron."

"But what about us?"

"There are some organic plants in the lab, Mixmaster wants to—" All Constructicons stiffen at Scavenger's words, optics and visors black. "There are some organic plants in the lab." He repeats, almost emotionlessly, more subdued and clearly saddened, as the three remaining lime green mechs get back to work again.

And then, the lights flicker and light up, and there's a collective sigh of relief from all Cybertronian.

"Thank Primus. Scavenger, keep going with small repairs, Scrapper and I will start with replacements." Hook commands, though there's not much of an order in his voice, and his Gestaltmate gives him a nod before the other two get out of the room with Ratchet and Hoist.

After exchanging some words with the only Constructicon left, Skyfire moves to the Energon dispenser and starts filling cubes to hand to the injured mechs.

A soft whirring sound catches the humans' attention, and, when they turn to the origin, they see Ravage standing on his back legs as comfortably as any other of them, before jumping up to Soundwave's table.

"Bro?" Rumble whimpers, staring up at the panther pleadingly.

With a hydraulic hiss, Megatron stands up and moves to them, carefully grabbing the Cassette and pulling it on his carrier's improvised berth, before repeating the operation with the rest of humans so that they can join Chip, now sitting down as the two Decepticons have moved to curl against the Communications Officer's side, with Ratbat cradled in Ravage's arms.

Soundwave looks as if sleeping, still dirtied with ash and burn marks from the battlefield, but with only his visor black to indicate anything wrong with him.

So, after a moment to look at him, Spike uses the chance the elevated position grants him to truly look around.

Ratchet, Hoist, Hook and Scrapper are in the Repair Bay, and the Reflector components are repairing the ship.

Megatron is still standing next to them, with Soundwave unconscious on the table, and Ravage, Rumble and Ratbat with them. Frenzy, Laserbeak and Buzzsaw, according to the remaining Cassettes themselves, are dead.

Starscream is lying on the next table, optics black and paint looking dull and grayed out, his cockpit gone and a bunch of cables slithering out of the space on his torso to connect to a machine showing some lines on a monitor, some kind of Cybertronian heart-monitor.

On the same side of the room, Thundercracker is lying on his own table, Ramjet, canopy gone and nosecone-shaped helm dented, sitting by his side. Skywarp is dead, having taken with him the twins, and, judging by their absence, so are the other two Coneheads.

On yet another table, Wildrider and Breakdown, scuffed and dented, are tightly embracing each other, not paying attention to the rest of the room. Since there's no sign of Motormaster, Drag Strip and Dead End, and if their behavior is any indications, Spike assumes they're dead too.

And talking about behavior, the Constructicons' reaction to Mixmaster's name points at him, Long Haul and Bonecrusher being gone too.

Astrotrain is off to fetch the Combaticons and Insecticons, but there's no sign, nor has been any mention, of Blitzwing, so the teenager adds him to the growing list of casualties.

Once he's sure that's all the Decepticons there, the human turns to observe the Autobot side.

Optimus is dead, as well as Slingshot and Air Raid, and it looks like Windcharger and Beachcomber are too. And so are the twins and Bumblebee.

The other three Aerialbots are curled on their own table, with an almost armor-less Cliffjumper and a shocked Brawn on the one next to them.

Jazz is sitting next to Blaster, and Prowl is by an uncomfortable Warpath.

Perceptor is lying on his own table, unconscious, with Inferno watching over him from where he's sitting next to Trailbreaker.

Powerglide, Bluestreak and Ironhide were at the battlefield. Gears, Huffer, Red Alert and Grapple were at the _Ark_. Hound and Mirage were lying gray and immobile last Spike saw them, and of Wheeljack he just managed to spot a detached arm.

It is safe to assume they're all dead.

Tracks was in New York, Smokescreen in Las Vegas, Cosmos in orbit, Seaspray somewhere on the Atlantic, Omega Supreme had taken a break to visit the Great Lakes, the Dinobots had gone exploring on one of the many deserted islands the government allowed them to freely roam without fear of property damage, and the Protectobots were on some kind of conference on a Griffin Island, or something of the like, somewhere in Maine.

He can only hope they're all alright.

* * *

**AN:** My apologies for taking so long to update, but I had other plot bunnies attacking me and some trouble trying to write this chapter. In the end, I had some things moved to the next, so whether those mentioned in the last part are deactivated or not, and which state they're in, will be revealed next chapter, when Astrotrain comes back.

Oh, and the replacing will begin. Be prepared to see some mech with parts that don't belong.

The Protectobots being in Griffin Rock (not Griffing Island) is a nod to _Rescue Bots_ (which I haven't seen, but I've heard much about).

If you have questions, don't hesitate to ask.


End file.
